Not a Mystic
by Buttons579
Summary: An Overwatch/Pokémon Go AU - In which trainer Angela has a rather strange meeting on christmas' eve.


Angela Ziegler put down the last of the ornaments in the Christmas tree and tiptoed so she could reach the top and place the star there. She took a step back and admired her handiwork – blue balls, blue ribbons and blue lights – all perfectly suiting the thematic decoration, all but the yellow star. It popped out, and she involuntarily winced.

Sensing her distress, her Pokémon stood from the corner and wrapped his ribbonlike feelers around her wrists. She was not, as far as she knew, a Pokémon, yet the gesture still held its soothing effects. She ran her fingers through her companion's fur, and he nuzzled her palm.

"Danke, Sylveon," she muttered, and it meowed in return. "Things haven't been easy for the two of us, have they? But I do believe I've made the right choice."

She absently touched her belt, where next to a single pokéball, a yellow crest laid.

 _It could have been worse_ , she told herself. _I could have joined Valor._

The sheer thought of the chaos that would have wrought was so disturbing, she shuddered. She would love to tell herself – and her family – that she'd joined Instinct in an impulse, but she was not, for a fact, an impulsive person. No, it had been a calculated decision, one that, ironically enough, was worthy of a Mystic.

She brushed a finger against a sparkly plastic Articuno that hung from the pine's branches. _Conceal, don't feel_ – the words she'd been raised with, but had chosen not to live her life to. In the eternal battle of brains-over-brawl and brawl-over-brains, Angela Ziegler had chosen neither. She knew, every time she witnessed an Instinct's trademark kindness, laidback attitude and innocent curiosity, she knew that was where she belonged.

She didn't regret it, not at all. Yet she couldn't help poking on these old wounds when she was surrounded by so much oppressive blue.

 _I got a Sylveon for god's sake_ , she mulled over, pulling her hand back. _Not a Glaceon. Not even a Vaporeon. A gottverdammt Sylveon, what were they even expecting?!_

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighed. Her family had never really forgiven it, and the holidays were always moments of tension, even though she was so rarely home. Because she spent most of her time in Zurich, holed up in her lab, working on her research, her visits to Stuttgart were seldom at most, yet every time, she was determined to make it up to them.

And every time, she failed in a different way.

It didn't matter. She was a determined woman, and she refused to quit trying. She flicked her wrist and checked the clock. The preparations were mostly ready, yet there was one single thing she still wanted to get – a symbolic little trinket she'd first seen at the antique's shop as a kid, but had never had the money to get until then.

"I'm off to some last minute shopping, Syl," she called, unlocking the door and grabbing a coat on her way. "Coming with?"

The Pokémon extended his front paws, stretching, then licked his muzzle and hopped off after her. Angela smiled. "Always good to have your company, my friend."

It was a short walk from her house to the tiny store, but the snow made the streets slippery and the wind was strong, so it took her almost fifteen minutes to get there. She wondered, what with the holiday and the weather, if it would be open at all. She needn't have worried – it took more than a little blizzard to stop a German from working.

"Reinhardt!" she greeted, pushing her way through the entrance. The veteran greeted her with a wide grin. She approached to shake his hand and was abruptly lifted from the ground in a bear hug. Laughing, from the corner of her eyes she spotted Sylveon greet the man's unusually large Flareon in a similarly excited manner.

"You have grown so much!" he exclaimed, putting her down.

Angela rolled her eyes. "You say that every time, and I'm pretty sure I haven't grown an inch since I was eighteen."

"Pah! Smart-mouthed as every single Ziegler," he retorted, then reached out under the counter and pulled a pair of mugs. " _Kaffee?_ Hot chocolate? To what do I owe the honor of this Christmas miracle of a visit?"

" _Danke,_ Reinhardt, but _nein, bitte._ I'm just here for a quick purchase. Remember that little Lugia pendant?"

The man's eyes glinted. "The one you loved as a little child? Funny you ask, someone came looking for it just the other day."

"Oh," Angela muttered, disappointed.

"Cheer up, _kind._ I haven't said I sold it, have I?" Reinhard produced a small jewel box from a drawer and pulled it open. "Turns out I saved it just for you!"

The blonde smirked. "Uh-huh. With your prices, I doubt that's why it's still here."

"Pah!" he huffed in mock indignation. "You taking it or not?"

She nodded, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and drew her wallet from her pocket. The prices were salty, even for a jewel, but she was earning well and she thought she deserved that little gift. Angela had a good feeling about it; she'd always admired Lugia's myth and what it represented, and she meant to wear it as a good luck charm of sorts. Perhaps that symbol of union and harmony would be what it took to remind her family of what was truly important, and if it didn't, well, she could afford to give herself a little childhood wish as a consolation prize.

Stepping out of the shop, she adjusted the beanie on her head so it covered her ears, then giving in to the itching of finally having a much desired new trinket, she removed a glove and fished the box from her pocket. Opening it with utmost care, she pulled on the chain and lifted it to eye level so she could take a closer look –

"Hey. Hey!" Someone yelled from across the street. Angela snapped her neck to the side and saw –

 _What the…_

She wasn't sure what exactly she saw. It was a person, of course, a woman, she could tell by the voice, but that was about it. Whoever it was, she was so bizarrely overdressed that only the chocolate eyes were showing. The Swiss woman could count at least four layers of coats, two pants, one wooly hat under a hood, a scarf and pink ear warmers.

It's not even that cold, she thought, bewildered.

" – hey!" the woman closed the distance between the two. "T-t-that thingy. The n-n-ecklace. You can't take it."

What.

"Um…actually, I can. I paid for it."

The other stepped back and muttered what were definitely curses on a foreign language. She reached for a pocket, then another and another, getting more aggravated with every one, until she finally produced a pokéball and with a cry of success, expanded it on her palm.

"Yeah!" the stranged yelled, then threw the ball. A flash of light and a characteristic puff crossed the air, and from it emerged a Sandslash. It was a tragicomic sight – the Pokémon, not used to the snow, immediately slipped and fell on its belly, shivering.

"Battle me for it!" the trainer exclaimed, oblivious.

"Weee?" Sylveon tilted his head, puzzled.

"Are you…mugging me?" Angela asked, equally confused. _…with a Sandslash? In the peak of Stuttgartian winter?_

"What?! N-n-no!" the other exclaimed, offended.

"…you kind of are," the blonde insisted. _"Scheiße,_ woman, put the poor thing back in the pokéball, it'll freeze to death."

The Sandslash creaked in agreement, and the not-mugger cursed again before recalling the Pokémon with an apology. The woman pulled the hood down and lowered the scarf that covered her mouth, and Angela could see for the first time her tan skin and clearly foreign features. She had a tattoo under her eye - an Udjat, she recognized the symbol.

"Listen, I j-just, I r-r-eally need that p-p-pendant –"

She took a deep breath, rubbed her temples, and made what was likely a really unwise decision. "Let's get inside somewhere. I'll buy you a hot chocolate and then we can talk about it."

 _And that's why I'm not a Mystic._

"Weeoo!" Sylveon cheered, poking a cold muzzle on her palm. Angela tilted her head. Syl had been her first Pokémon, back when he was still an Evee, and even though they had been together for pretty much all their lives, he often eluded her.

Yet what she'd learned after all their years together was that though she usually didn't understand him, she could always trust his instincts, and right then, he seemed oddly content with her choice.

They made their way to the nearest coffee shop, and Angela had to stop the other woman from slipping and falling into every single spot of ice on their path. They were all but holding hand when they finally reached the place, and once they took their seats, the relief was visible on the other's body language.

The blonde ordered warm drinks for three and turned to the stranger, then extended her hand. "Angela Ziegler, but you may call me Angela."

The woman eyed her hand for almost a full second, and Angela could all but hear the little click when her brain caught up and she extended a hand in return. "Oh! I'm Fareeha Amari. Pharah for short."

They shook on it just as their beverages arrived. The Swiss served her Pokémon first, herself second, waited until Pharah had had a little to drink, then started up a conversation.

"You're not from around here." It wasn't a question.

"Uh, no," the other stated, wiping the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm from Egypt, actually. It's a long, crazy story."

Angela lifted her cup and made circular movements, watching the liquid swirl in it. "Humor me."

The Egyptian shrugged. "It's my mom," she explained, stopping every now and then to take a sip. "She was a… prominent team leader, back in my country. And then, one day, poof! Just gone. She vanished without a trace, and I've been chasing leads ever since. That pendant, the one you bought – it belonged to her, and I think it might show me my next step."

"A team leader. Valor, I take it?" the blonde finished her drink and put the mug down.

"Um, yes. How did you know?"

"'Battle me for it' was your first impulse," she mused. Pharah gave her a sheepish smile.

"You're Instinct, right?"

She arched an eyebrow. "What makes you think so?"

"Well, you didn't kick my ass, and you didn't call the cops on me either," she paused. "Uh, also the crest on your belt."

It suddenly crossed her mind that the woman might be hungry. Angela thought of bringing it up, then decided against it – Fareeha had immediately struck her as a proud woman. Sylveon laid a head on her lap and gave her hand a light nibble. Angela looked down at him and received a meaningful look.

She called the waiter and just ordered food for three without asking, then took the box from her pocket and placed it on the table. The Egyptian's eyes glinted at it, and she noticed for the first time that the other's features were incredibly striking. The dark skinned woman eagerly reached out for the box, then stopped herself short.

"May I?" she asked. The blonde nodded.

Pharah removed the pendant from the box and inspected it closer, beaming. "That's it! That's really it! Ha! That old geezer wouldn't let me touch it, but here, you see –" she leaned forward on the table and flipped the little Lugia. On its back, something that Angela had never noticed before - Reinhardt hadn't let _her_ anywhere close to the jewel before she bought it, either – a symbol, similar to the one tattooed on the woman's face: the Eye of Horus. And next to it, two letters had been carved – A.A.

"That's for Ana Amari," Pharah began to explain, but was interrupted by the waiter bringing their meals. She ate ravenously, and Angela subtly pushed her portion to the woman's side of the table.

"What do you think happened to her?" she queried whilst the other ate. "Do you have any ideas?"

Fareeha froze and locked eyes with her. "One. But it's crazy."

"If it brought you all the way to Germany, I think it might be worth listening," she shot back.

"Well…remember those stories from childhood – I mean, at least from my childhood, about the birds –"

"Yes," Angela agreed. "Universal tales, those."

"And how each bird patrons over one of the teams," the other continued. "Moltres for Valor, Zapdos for Instinct, and Articuno for Mystic? Well, there's the fourth bird, Lugia…" she trailed off.

On her lap, Sylveon perked up his ears, suddenly focused.

"You don't mean…Team Harmony," Angela completed. "It's a myth. The birds, the fourth team, all of it."

"Is it?" Fareeha countered. "I don't think my mother was just a Valor leader, Angela. I think she might have been involved in something much…bigger. And this -" she picked the pendant back. " – I know it cost you a lot. I don't mean to steal it, I swear. I just… I need to borrow it. I need to see this through."

"Weeoo," Sylveon squealed. The blonde squinted at him.

"Syl?" she asked, but the Pokémon was already moving. He placed its paws on top of the table, reaching out, and brushed his muzzle against the silver medallion –

A purple light spread from where the metal had touched skin, and it was abruptly snatched from Pharah's hands, vertically floating in the air, hanging still for a second. Then it moved, turned horizontally the chain folding over itself until it took a definite arrowlike shape, pointing outside. It trembled and whizzed –

Then the glow dissipated and it fell back on the table, inanimate once more.

"Weeee," Sylveon cheered.

Angela had no words for it. She gaped, blinked, suddenly feeling very, very thrilled. Pharah was quicker to recover.

"…I think I may need to borrow your Sylveon, too."

"Like hell you will," the blonde retorted, and then, without giving time for the other to look disappointed – _she didn't want that to happen for some reason –_ she completed, "I'm coming with you."

The Egyptian blinked. "You…are? Really?"

"Are you kidding me?" she snapped with no real bite. "You come to me with the plot twist of my life, and you don't think I'll chase it? I'm a scientist for god's sake, we're curious people."

Pharah smiled, no, downright grinned at it. "Wow. That's…yeah. I think…I think I'm okay with that. I wouldn't mind the company."

"I wasn't asking," Angela mused. "My pendant? My Sylveon?"

"Uh, yeah," the other stared at her innocently. "Thanks. For everything, really. You're being a real angel – hey, that's your name, right? Angel."

She _blushed._

 _What the hell._

"Wee-eee-ee" Sylveon squeaked, and was that a Pokémon _giggle?_

 _Conceal don't feel, conceal don't feel._

She was good at that. She had been raised into that. She cleared her throat, taking control of the situation. "We can get on the move really soon, just not today…Christmas holidays, I hope you understand."

"Oh! Yes, of course," the other nodded. "I didn't mean to intrude…or throw your life upside down. I mean, I'm real anxious now that I'm this close but… I realize if I involve you, I have to compromise."

Angela smiled. "It's fine. I shan't delay. Just a day, two at most… where are you staying? I'll meet you as soon as I can afterwards."

Pharah blinked. "Um, at that street corner you found me. I'd tell you the name, but it's German, I can't even begin to think how to pronounce it."

"You're staying on the street," the blonde stated.

"Well…"

"Stay the night at my place," she offered, because damn it, it was winter and she had a heart. "I'll have the air mattress inflated for you, there's plenty space in my room."

"That's…um, very kind of you. Are you sure it wouldn't be a problem?"

"Um, absolutely," she lied.

 _I'm bringing a foreign hobo Valor home for Christmas._

"Sweet!" Pharah smiled again, and it was so bright and sunny, it seemed to obliterate Angela's concerns just like that.

"Wee-ee-ee-ee" Sylveon laughed again.

 _And this is why I'm not a Mystic._


End file.
